


Siren's Stipulation

by seekingjets



Category: Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, M/M, Manipulated consent by disembodied entity, Mild Gore, Night Terrors, Non-Explicit Sex, Not Beta Read, Predator/Prey, Psychological unrest, Seeker Trines, Seeker culture, Sparkeater mythos, Survival Horror, Suspense, dark themes
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-06-26
Updated: 2019-09-03
Packaged: 2020-05-20 06:03:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 18,443
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19370944
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/seekingjets/pseuds/seekingjets
Summary: The crew of the Nemesis learn there are more than just Sparkeaters lurking in the dark of space.-On hiatus until spring





	1. Static

 Prologue:

* * *

 

 _“This is such a waste of my time. He’s_ _beginning to lose his mind is what it is. Module rot, so tragic in the elderly.”_

While the visual on the ship was still strong, the live feed had cut out as the trine landed onboard the wreckage. Unfortunately the communications were still holding and did not spare the Nemesis bridge of Starscream’s _complaints._

“We can hear you Starscream.” Megatron feels his lip curl with irritation as Soundwave shares in his grief. Shockwave, recently joined from his tower,  just across from them absorbed with the readouts from their scans. The sounds of shifting metal and Thundercracker’s soft warning of their path playing hushed over the speakers.

 _“Oh no!”_ His second forces a gasp while the radio crackles with strain. Soundwave immediately going to try and stabilize the connection. _“You can? On the open channel I set up for you? Who would have known?”_

“Watch your tone.” Megatron warns despite knowing a rock would be more receptive to his command. “Skywarp any signs of survivors?”  Best to remove attention from Starscream, it would be faster than trying to negotiate with the brat’s game of theatrics. He hears the red seeker snarl in response to just that as Skywarp makes a laughing noise at his wingmate’s expense.

 _“No sir. No signs of---anything really.”_ There’s a concerning wonder in Skywarp’s tone which gives Megatron pause. So few things filtered the deviousness from Skywarp’s voice but since their arrival in the ship debris Megatron had noted an astounding lack of _giggling._

They’d picked up a Cybertronian distress beacon enroute to meet with a few scattered battleships, some of which had endured Autobot resistance and would be needing aid. The Nemesis was closest and well-stocked and Megatron thought it would be a logical move to travel with a complete entourage as they made their way through the edges of lesser mapped quadrons. Soundwave agreed, and by some miracle so did Starscream. What the seeker HAD disapproved of was the deviation of course once the SOS was picked up on long-range scanners.

It wasn’t a Decepticon ship, nor were there any signs of traffic through the shadowed corners of their current location. Starscream thought it might be an Autobot trap, or perhaps their friends at the Consortia had known their intended travels. It all seemed unlikely and Starscream’s protests were silenced and ignored upon his order to move towards the beacon.

All they found was a ship.

What was left of a ship that is.

 _“Sir we aren’t detecting any radiation levels and these engines are frosted. There’s a singular powercore still running but not with any purpose. It looks like it was manipulated somehow?”_ Thundercracker speaks up and Megatron taps a finger against his throne’s arm. _“Bit if I had to guess, this ship hasn’t moved in---”_

 _“--Hundreds of years, give or take.”_ Starscream intercepts, his voice softened by curiosity as the scientific mind he so rarely utilized at the correct times must have kicked in. _“Megatron this is a ghost ship.”_ Static a low rumble in the distance.

The bridge kicks off in quiet voices and awkward shifts at waiting stations below. Helms ducking to encourage such superstitious nonsense as more sounds travel over the comms. Starscream’s sharp hiss of annoyance while Skywarp and Thundercracker can be heard moving about. Helping him with something.

“Don’t embarrass yourself with that claim, Starscream.” Megatron speaks up, his thin stare cutting down the noise across his gathered subordinates. A ghost ship, how ridiculous. The  last thing he needed was a ship of paranoid Decepticons taking shots at the first pipe to groan in the dark.

 _“Primus you’re so stupid.”_ Starscream huffs, tone strained and there’s a loud clattering before Thundercracker confirms he can reach something. _“A ghost ship is merely a dead ship with some stored power supply sending feedback into the universe. Makes it seem like there’s something alive on it -  I TOLD you this was a fool’s mission!”_

Megatron’s servo hovered on the communication controls out of reaction, longing to order Astrotrain to retreat and kick Starscream into radio silence. Let the spoiled thing burn his own fuel getting back to the ship. But that would be a waste of resources and giving his command trine reasons to bicker was certainly not beneficial to morale. Just another mark against Starscream’s conduct, another fight waiting to be held between them.

They had considered the possibility the floating ship had been attacked judging by the state it was found. A small cruiser missing half of its body to decay and some unseen cause. Stern broken clean off and trailing debris like an open wound. Faded and outdated looking thing, but Megatron was not one to judge. Starscream was, and complained when his trine was sent to do reconnaissance. If there was some unknown danger in the surrounding areas a fractured ship would be the first place to find warning.

It took Thundercracker and Skywarp to push Starscream off the bridge to the hangar, their commander complaining the whole time. Claiming as the only _experienced explorer_ that he had a bad _feeling_ about this. Megatron answered by promising Starscream would be full of bad feelings if he didn’t get his aft on that broken ship.

Starscream muttered his indignant response before stepping into Astortrain’s carriage, scowling over his shoulder at Megatron in departure. Shockwave suggested when he returns, they could just shove him in a main cannon’s funnel and leave him there but Megatron was certain that would only result in a downed gun and seeker out for his head.

Soothing image though.

“There has to be one exception to my vow against personality modification.” He murmurs without earnesty. Such a practice was strictly forbidden in his army of course. Even if there was a chance, with minimal tweaking, Starscream could be the perfect soldier. Maybe there was a small switch in a seeker’s mainframe to tone down the attitude. Megatron could handle mild  insubordination: it was all the pointless bitching that got to him.

_“I heard that!”_

“Oh. No. On an open line?” Mocks, feeling a fragment of satisfaction when Starscream’s vibrating hiss could almost be felt through the lines. Soundwave turning to look at him before Megatron could tuck away the smirk in answer. “Loot for anything useful then return. Soundwave, have Astrotrain take a full area  scan and upload it to main access. Perhaps someone can figure out what happened here.”

_“I’ll tell you what happened, a ship probably was damaged in a botched jump and the crew left on escape crafts - and we’re just sifting through garbage.”_

“Perhaps we should finish this operation in silence.”

_“Is that an order?”_

“What do you think?” Answers, jaw tense. If Primus did not despise him there would be something on that ship worth the stop or else Starscream would think he’d won. He could imagine the gloating now.

“Affirmative.” Soundwave refocuses on their station, setting the orders and opening channels to receive data. Shockwave muttering to the side in curiosities and trajectories. His tone sharpening as Astrotrain’s uploads began streaming in. Diagrams of the ship from the outside while the rest would have to be manually uploaded from Skywarp once the trine returned.

Minutes passed, the humdrum of busy work giving Megatron no reason to pay attention. Tempted to offline his sights and prepare himself for the yelling to follow on Starscream’s landing. It was strange, actually. So rarely was his seeker adverse to exploration or investigation that the opposite felt almost startling. Sure he could be lazy, but never disinterested.

Suspicion was Megatron's first instinct, the second was doubt.

Starscream’s self preservation was second to none despite his usual stroll into sparked chaos. It’s what kept him alive so seamless all these years: knowing when even he had gotten in over his head. Starscream liked to call it “common fragging sense” when it was more like intuition. A term the seeker despised - referred to as guessing. But how many times had Starscream’s hesitation caused Megatron to change plans at the last moment - and be grateful for the input?

_“Wh--t is that?”_

_“Um. Cre--y.”_

Thundercracker and Skywarp’s disjointed voices broke through Megatron’s thoughts just as Soundwave’s servos moved with quickend speed across the controls before them.

“Starscream. Update.” Soundwave calls across the linerose Megatron sits forward on the throne. Video feed still down and the low hum of static beginning to build across speakers. “Reply requested. Command Trine, answer."

 _“We fou-- the -rgo hold, it wasn’t ---- off with the latter half -- the ship. But it’s---”_ The comms were almost all static now as Soundwave was growing visibly tense. _"Shou-- we proc---?”_

“Negative.” Megatron stands from his throne, moving to hover at Soundwave’s side as though the physical change of position would strengthen the clarity of the communication. The feeling of something _off_ charging across his own processor. “Fall back to extraction point. I want you three out of there. Now.”

There’s a violent sound like metal being struck that rings almost deafening from the speakers, causing Soundwave and a number of Decepticons at task to flinch. Some even ducking their heads with a soft grimace as confusion plays across their features. Megatron takes the comms once more as it rings again, this time louder.

“Starscream, I repeat, do not continue further -” The volume of static reaches an all-time high forcing even Megatron to react. Refusing to offline his receptors in fear of being deafened to attack or unseen danger. Servo quickly  reaching out to scruff Soundwave who was not so lucky. Their form crumpling against the console as the rest of them goes stiff in a painful arch. “Starscream! Retreat immediately."

 _“Ok you heard the boss.”_ Skywarp’s voice wasn’t his usual chipper but he didn’t seem to hear the painful noise emitting from the ship in vicious waves.

 _“Heard him-what are you talking about?”_ Thundercracker too seemed unaffected by the sound now tearing itself through the Nemesis - triggering alarms to raise with a choked sound. The flaring red and alerts overwhelming console screens and visual displays.

Soundwave's form is convulsing in hold, going limp and heavy against Megatron's side.

“Thundercracker - Starscream come in!” Orders as the soldiers below begin to make noises in protest to the sound unstoppable.

_“He just ordered us to open the door.”_

_“This is a really stupid prank, stop touching things, our radios are down.”_

_“Screamer I hate to say it but I think Warp has finally lost his--”_

“Someone answer me!”

Shockwave almost collides into Megatron, stumbling as his antenna were pulled backwards to his helm. Shifting Soundwave’s weight so he might reach the communication platform. Almost stabbing at the projected keys and controls trying to silence the horrendous noise which had begun to spiral into something less like radio distortion - into something more akin to a scream.  

“Starscream we’ve been compromised! Abandon that ship immediately!”

 _“Wait I’m picking up the Nemesis."_ There's a flutter of relief immediately torn away by Starscream's next message. " _Megatron can youSkywarp what are you doing?!"_

There’s no more static.

Just the unraveling scream which shudders and tears through the computers. Sending Decepticons crashing to their knees in pain, clutching at their helms and sending the full network into sputtering chaos. Sparks pouring from station bodies and flickering lights all around like the final sights of a dying mech. Through the turmoil of sound and shrieking Megatron can scarcely make out the fading commotion of Starscream’s rapid cannon fire - his distorted orders of _retreat_ and _watch your backs_ before there’s a sharp intake of breath and Megatron feels something cold and slithering ride the length of his back.

A noise like a throat fighting viscous tar curls across the back of his processor and Megatron feels suddenly very ill recognizing it as his own voice - moments before Thundercracker can be heard yelling Starscream's name.

 

Then seekers begin to drop.

Those scattered on the bridge already holding their helms, trying to protect themselves from the sound crawling through the ship, hit the floor with a pained jerk. Bodies going loose and lax before toppling over, heads turned in awkward positions.

The Decepticons able to, try to catch the ones closest to them and Megatron watches the slow rise of action from his soldiers. Those who can trying to turn over seeker bodies to keep them from crushing their own wings. A few thinking quickly and with a flash of a blade cut the streams of their receptors from beneath the edge of their neighbor’s helm. Dropping them into forced silence with a small wince and splash of fuel - but able to rise on weary pedes. Adaptable as was their core identity.

With an arm around Soundwave’s torso Megatron turns to set the officer down against the throne, gentle as he can while mental processors fluctuate beneath the unknown screams. The sound like a barbed blade pulling itself across his attempts at concentration

“Shockwave turn it off!” He roars across the minimal space, still refusing to offline any part of himself in case he hears Starscream again.

Shockwave motions with a singular servo - imploring Megatron for patience and Megatron shifts his own hands around, communicating in clipped actions that there is no time as he moves off the throne platform. One hand able to pull the dead weight of a seeker off their trapped companion before additional damages were wrought. Trying to stop another soldier from digging out their own input receivers with frantic hands.

"Now Shockwave!"

There’s a feeling like a steel pipe being cracked into the side of his head. Dizzes and unsettles, knocking Megatron off balance with the force as the echo throbs hot across the side of his body in a vicious pulse. Gritting denta plates as he realizes his right receiver just erupted and _popped_ from the sound. The warm sensation of fuel running down his neck and shoulder, the shuddering pain with every forced step to hover at Shockwave’s left and try to make sense of the system’s attempts at protecting them.

 

And that’s when the skittering display on the ghost ship goes suddenly very clear. The floating, unassuming shape of a dead craft, the distant motion of Astrotrain circling its mass while between the deafening shriek like a _voice_ , Megatron swears he hears a word of a language he does not speak.

_"Megatron open the fragging hangar doors!!"_

Starscream's voice emerges from the maddening chaos just as the Nemesis is plunged into darkness.

 


	2. Small wounds

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning, this chapter includes a mildly descriptive scene of robot gore - for medical purpose  
> And a scene of violence. I have updated the tags accordingly, but please be aware before reading. 
> 
> Also sorry for the wait, I realized I was a bit too ambitious in planning and we needed a little more set up. 🖤

 

 

_“Believe nothing you hear, and only one half that you see.”_

\- Edgar Allan Poe

\---

**_Authorization Denied. Unknown Contagion Detected._ **

“No!” Starscream’s body crashes into the sealed entryway, wing caught between and sensitive edges giving a shriek of painful protest. Still no sign of damage to the hefty doors, even his attempts to pry the things open with (now bent) claws had no effect. Not even a scratch across the surface. “Override command sequence: _Star. Beta. Crown. Shield!_ ” He tried once more only for the glaring denial in the form of flashing lights and smothered sirens to be his answer. 

**_Authorization Denied. Sequence not recognized as Quarantine override._ **

“What’s going on?!” Thundercracker spoke from behind him in the cramped space, even less room with the unmoving shape of Skywarp in his arms. 

“My sequence isn’t high enough command for quarantine.” He explains, digging claws against the clear doors of the room which held them trapped. Staring out into the empty room, scattered equipment and blackened corridors just in sight. “Why isn’t anyone here?!”

The idiot Skywarp had teleported, even with his generator hanging out of his wounded body and both TC and himself telling him _no._ But they needed to get away from the dead ship as fast as possible after the attack of...whatever that _thing_ was.

Soundwave didn’t answer his frantic calls to be let in the closest entry from their warp point on the locked gun deck and any secondary entrances would have taken too long to check. He knew Megatron was going to have his head for breaking any part of his precious ship, but Starscream didn’t have a second thought. Tearing apart a ventilation system which they could use to navigate towards the interior. Large enough that their wings wouldn’t disrupt their travel even with the dead weight of their third carried between them. 

It was certainly not comforting to finally reach the inner levels and find the Nemesis on generator power and struggling between lock down sequences. Some halls completely sealed off by fire doors while others were half open without power. The corridors beyond dark and vacant save for an odd flash of light further into the depths. Similar to Skywarp’s spark fluctuating with each passing second, the bubbling welt of his injury blackening the armor surrounding. Starscream refused to meet Thundercracker’s eyes in fear his could not maintain focus if he lost himself to the panic swallowing up his trine.

They’d slowed significantly making it around the strange blockades of sealed doors and quiet halls to a roundabout entry towards the medical bay before they were stopped. Slipping past a storage room to try and make it to the last stretch - and only in the moment they tried to cross that threshold did sirens begin shrieking. 

Walls came down around them, transparent and thick while holo-displays flared and flashed warnings of contamination again and again. Barring them from further travel as the strained computer voice repeated once more that Starscream’s code was not enough to get them moving again. Sealing off the room under blared protocol and mandate.

“We don’t have time for this!” He punches the clear wall with enough force to send a bolt of pain up his wrist, joints unprepared, while Thundercracker scuffled behind. Turning around in observation of their current state. 

 **_“Authorization Denied. Foreign Contamination Detected.”_ ** 

“What does it mean, contamination?” 

Starscream didn’t think to explain, just motioned to the gaping wound across Skywarp’s chest and throat now a pool of icor black and melted components.

“Whatever that _thing_ was, it probably drooled when it bit him. The computers are likely picking up the foreign substance.” He tried to keep his voice stable, difficult to do when you weren’t certain of the next step. “The Nemesis went through more extensive protection upgrades once Shockwave came onboard, his little lab of horrors houses more plaques than Blitzwing has personalities. It's probably glitching along with whatever took out the main power." 

“But he’s going to die!” 

“Shut up he’s not going to die!” He turns on his wingmate, scowl fading in the same second at the horrifying state of their third. “We just have to find a way to get the doors open. Usually someone would be alerted to the alarm - activate decontamination procedure…” But no one was coming. No sign of life in the sealed off room of basic medical supply and a dying seeker.

There was no telling what happened while they were away, and as he stared out of their cage he could only image the worst.

“Starscream look up.” TC’s voice brings his attention back around, trailing off as Skywarp’s body gives a pained sound, vents rattling - choking on gurgled pieces of himself. The low hum of static across their still unresponsive radio like waters on a distant world.

He looked up and found relief in what what staring back at him.

The exposed ceiling of open power lines and ventilation access was certainly not supposed to be there. Quarantine lockdown was supposed to activate in full - completely sealing all surfaces of the room with a tacky polymer foam: nothing in nothing out. The ceiling should be coated by now but as TC had noticed it was free and waiting to be manipulated. 

“Good catch.” Starscream adjusts his footing, ignorant to Thundercracker’s frowning expression and soft comment.

“Huh?" 

Starscream ignores an ominous sensation that’s likely more due to the thin slash across his helm than any real feeling of suspicion. Minimal damage, easily ignored in the chaos. He only has to fire once with his null ray and the exposed powerline erupts in pale blue tremors and smoke as something _pops_ and screams - the static quieting on open lines as the doors give a hiss. **_“Warning: Contagio--”_ ** Depressurizing and soft as Starscream’s claws met with the seam, already pulling the doors apart with bared denta and a dizzying sensation across his cranium.

“Careful!” 

“I am!” 

Neither really can tell who is yelling what. Riding the spiral of concern as their connection to Skywarp shudders and strains, their own bonded tethers trying to keep him leashed to consciousness while their sparks converse in a sensational language heard only by the pricking across their wings and the sore feeling in their tanks. Pushing forward through the abandoned halls until turning a familiar corner and nearly tripping over a pair of legs. 

It was a seeker.

One of many.

The hall outside of the medical bay entrance was stocked with bodies. Some moving, some trying to rouse others from their slouching positions. Wings bent or arms scorched with unknown injury: all looking frustrated or panicked the same. Not only seekers though, some ground soldiers as well were in various states of battered and bruising, helms cracked and broken at their audial receptors. Three or four with faded fuel streaks across their servos and mouths from some scuffle Starscream couldn’t imagine. But more than one seemed confused and grasping for purchase on their surroundings when Starscream comes into view.

A part of him hears his Sire's voice, both strict and encouraging, when trying to instill into Starscream a sense of duty. Command. Take charge. Lead and the flock will follow. He used to think that meant be louder than the rest but time has shown Starscream what his Sire meant was how Megatron conducts himself. Unflinching. Stable. 

Starscream is neither of these things as he shoves past the first subordinate who attempts to approach and slow their passage. Snarling bitter and low with rattling wings at the slouching Decepticons who might have benefited from an established command. He didn't care about rank, almost insulted that they'd pretend to be devoted soldiers now when they looked lost and pitiful. Wanting someone else to bear the weight. 

No. Starscream had more important matters, namely barging into the main medical floor and calling for Hook like a curse. Skywarp shivering in TC's arms as they search for a gurney or a cot to place him on. 

"Busy Starscream!" Hook's voice lacks its usual attempt at elegance, slipping into the sloppy patterns of his gestalt. It does nothing to dissuade Starscream from pulling at hefty plastic shields in a hurried search as Skywarp is set down nearby - hissing wild when he spots the medic. 

And recoils at what he finds on the other side of the surgical curtain.

Soundwave's cranial guard is missing which leaves their delicate internal components to spill out and tangle, wet and sparkling across the medical table. There's a smell like rot and smoke as Hook moves servos quickly down tacky cables. Weaving the dripping membrane which guards the fragile cluster of modules which serve as Soundwave's minds, trying to secure pathways with red glowing tools and the smell of fuel and scorch is ripe across the room.

Tank turns, startled by the image, as Shockwave and Scavenger are also present. Singular servo clattering over a holo-display of Soundwave's base systems. Looking very much like he was trying to hack into his conjunx's functions while Scavenger just appeared lost and waiting for orders.

"I said busy!" Hook doesn't look up, clamping a sputtering bleed on a cable thick as Starscream's finger. "Shockwave?" 

Starscream has never heard Shockwave's voice fall anywhere beyond _bland_ or _indignant._ So hearing panic in the mono-optic creep was more disturbing than the macabre display of internals spilled across the table. 

"It is their most fortified system." His hand remains steady but tone quivers. "And the fail-safe is corrupted. It's engaged in a response protocol - they’re rewriting foreign code blind to any relation.” 

By Shockwave's horror and the twin streams of pulsating vitals displayed beneath Soundwave's own, both failing rapidly: Starscream didn't have to guess long as to what was happening.

"Move!" Starscream was already pushing Shockwave aside. Knee pressed against the table as the scientist gave a hard noise of surprise witnessing Starscream crawl on top of the unconscious officer. "Thundercracker needs your help with Skywarp." He barks, turning focus onto Scavenger who looks uncomfortable. "I'll handle this."

"What are you doing?!" Shockwave doesn't have an expression, but Hook does. First horror then discomfort, realization and acceptance as he orders his brother off to obey. 

"Go tend to Skywarp." 

"Starscream!" Shockwave grabs ahold of Starscream's shoulder as he was now straddling Soundwave's waist. Beneath him, Starscream can feel the vibration and heat of something very wrong happening - and no time to sit around and wait. "You are going to hurt--"

"Just shut up and be ready!"

With little other warning he digs claws into the seam above Soundwave's chest compartment, pushing hard enough the metal bends and whines at the intrusion. Stronger than he will ever look, Starscream keeps pushing, clawing and digging into the gouge made, trying to recall the exact schematics he was given years ago of the intricate system of the housing chamber. That one singular moment Soundwave decided to trust him with delicate information, for exactly a moment like this. 

He once questioned it and then shrugged off what he believed was useless intel - but now he sees why of all those dearest to Soundwave, they trusted **him** with such information. Because Starscream was the only one willing to risk Soundwave's life like this.

There's a pop and a shriek and a tear as he breaks open the sealed door. Feeling the locking mechanisms refuse to give so he tears the shield window down the middle. Leaving Soundwave's chest a twisted, broken mess as Shockwave almost looks ready to shoot him before understanding sets in. Quick to join Starscream with one servo to aid pulling the sheets of insulation and chamber walls apart. Leaving hands bloodied and cracked under the strength of it. 

Despite the pain Starscream reaches in, hands slick with his own fuel, and pries the first cassette free. Pushing it aside and into Shockwave's grasp while coolant and acidic solution tries to flood the chambers. Burning at his hands when reaching for the second body inside.

“Is it just the two?!” 

“Yes.” Shockwave nods, pulling the bloodied and glitching shapes to his chest, hurriedly moving to place the locked frames onto a nearby table and spilling tools in his urgency to begin undoing damages. 

Starscream lets wings sink, looking up to Hook who hasn’t stopped his own work. Sealing off frayed lines and looking at least somewhat satisfied before moving to address the mutilation and damages Starscream had instigated. Looking for major fuel line ruptures or perhaps expecting Starscream to have caused more damage than necessary to free the cassettes.

“You’re lucky you knew this wouldn’t kill them.” Hook barks, the engineer’s voice tense as he got to work removing the door completely as Starscream half fell from the table. Servos pained from the ragged edges of broken metal and glass which sliced deep across his palms for the effort. Not that he was a thinly armored creature - but there was nothing Soundwave protected more than their offspring.

“Well you both were wasting time letting all three of them die!” It’s pointless to argue, throwing up injured hands and stepping around busied drones and Decepticon medics. Moving to where he’d left his trine and where Scavenger was now focused alongside Thundercracker and a hoard of fist sized hovering droids. 

His gaze suddenly took in the full chaos of the medical floor, the rushing medics and deputized soldiers swinging cautery patches and crackling jumper rods to various bodies. It looked like the aftermath of an attack, infiltration? Were there more of those _things_ on the Nemesis?

“The hell is going on?!” 

“I was hoping you could tell me.” Megatron’s voice crawls up the space between his wings, forcing him to spin and almost slap his leader across the torso in his motion.

He didn’t look happy, but then again, Megatron never looked happy and the observed injury to his helm was Starscream’s second observation. Metal pushed outward and scorched, fuel mostly clotted and thick down the pale gray frame. Red optics bright as Starscream felt the overwhelming push of Megatron’s field swallow him whole, searching for something? Scanning him and any unprotected vitals - a certain level of crude observation that left Starscream shrinking back with discomfort.

“What happened to you?”

Megatron grabs his arm before he can stop it, the vice grip edging painful as he’s yanked forward and towards the exit. TC’s voice in the distance missed as the rush of panic sets in. Already scrambling and pulling, swearing up and down that he _didn’t do it_ while trying not to step on crouched soldiers outside in the halls. 

They don’t go far before he’s released, tucked away in shadow where no one might be able to witness his death and he reacts accordingly. Hiding behind raised arms and calculating how fast he could get claws into the injury on Megatron’s head - how much time that would give him?

“Are you alright?” 

Starscream flinches at that more than if he were struck, daring to look through spread claws up at Megatron.

Same scarred and hardened face. Same noble and infuriating gaze and set jaw. The weighted stare taking in the amount of fuel ruining his armor and the battered state of his servos. Megatron seemed unlike himself, hesitant to continue while his focus held to Starscream’s messy visage.

“It’s not mine. This is from freeing those wretched little cassettes from Soundwave’s body. Mostly.” Which was true as he stretched out his servos and winced at the brittle sting. It wouldn’t take much work but the repaint was going to be a bitch. Most of the rest of the bleed stain was from Skywarp. “And it’s not my fault!” 

“What happened?” Megatron’s voice goes tense, an order. But his large, stupid hands pull something from subspace and Starscream’s wrist was once more snatched, then attacked as Megatron placed the weight of a cautery patch over the fractured and gashed palm. Leaving Starscream to wilt and whine in the sudden shock of discomfort and heat. “We lost communication with your group.” 

“Be careful!” He whines, leaning back against the corridor wall when his hand was released, the temporary lines of sealed metal appearing ugly and uneven across his hot palm. Megatron was already going for the second hand and Starscream could only deflate knowing there was no way to stop this brutal attempt at repair. Allowing it with a clenched jaw and at least better prepared for the sharp pain of searing heat over the delicate injuries.

He decided short and sweet was the best way to satisfy his oddly focused leader.

“We followed a diverging power-line from what remained of the engines to the cargo bay. It was sealed from the outside.” 

He remembers the way it looked, almost too solid for the state of disrepair of the ship. The silver welding lines framing the door and the broken control panel outside looked like a fist had gone through it. Thundercracker and he were unnerved but Skywarp approached the rusted edges without concern, babbling strangely to himself and making no sense. Something had felt very wrong about the situation, and the moment the Nemesis was lost in an almost painful wave of static - Starscream knew they shouldn’t be there.

“Skywarp opened the door, I don’t know why. Maybe he was mishearing fractured communications?” He guesses, recalling hearing a fragment of Soundwave’s voice before Skywarp was prying the door open without care - he was smiling actually. 

“We heard as much.” Megatron agrees, but looks distant from the comment as in a surprise motion takes Starscream by the scruff of his neck and tugs forward, leaving the seeker to scramble for purchase on the hefty arm now holding his waist. 

“What are you-” He begins to snap but Megatron’s thumb brushes the thin line across edge of his helm - the injury almost forgotten in the noise and panic of what they had returned home to. He sees stars in fluctuating optics and clenches against Megatron’s hold at the burst of pain radiating from the thin wound. “DON’T Do that!” 

“What did this to you?” He’s too strong to be fought off, though Starscream definitely tries. Finding it useless when a shoulder is grabbed and he’s nudged back to the wall, that fat stupid leg of Megatron’s coming to cross his own like a clamp to keep him from running. Pushing hopeless at the broad chest when Megatron prepares another patch.

“That’s from scrambling to get inside the locked-down ship!” He lies without thinking.

“Be thankful, we don’t have time for petty injuries and your trine isn’t available to coddle you.” 

“Petty!”  He has less than a klik before Megatron’s servo comes to squeeze just beneath his torso turbine, grip wide enough to brace and hold while the other practically slaps the patch over the sleek little wound like a child with a decal. He gapes at this, hoping he leaves scuffs in Megatron’s armor from the drag of his claws and the shocking flinch of his body as this one felt - much worse than he imagined it should. Letting out a strangled yelp as his weight was briefly supported by his leader. Seeing blinding white and something slither at the edges of his vision.

He must have offlined his optics for when they come back on he’s half straddling Megatron’s thigh and squeezing neat little puncture marks against the other’s arm. The worst part is Megatron is just letting him like he feels no pain at all. 

Starscream hates to admit it, but it reminds him of those early war days before those who would become medics (who were not permitted to study or train by cruel laws) knew a damn thing. Then it was a decent chance a newly-promoted Decepticon doctor would kill you faster than the enemy. Familiarity with medical tools came second nature to any Decepticon - they had to. After all, those who were allowed to be doctors didn’t have a reason to rebel against an uncaring Senate and left them at a severe disadvantage from the start. 

This scene just felt like the many times Megatron and he patched each other up in trenches or under siege towers. Back then it was almost expected.

“That should keep until Hook can take a look.” Megatron holds him upright, loose grip, waiting for him to regain himself and seems too bothered by external thoughts to look upset when Starscream shoves him away. Snarling low and in warning, wings vibrating softly in the dim hallway.

He should count himself lucky Megatron grants him a moment to recollect himself at all, hardly known for his patience. But Starscream hated knowing his stupid fat-headed leader probably thought it was an act of kindness - Primus help them all. 

Injury to literal injury aside, Starscream wasn’t truly certain how to continue. This, Megatron did notice. 

“What happened on that ship Starscream?” 

He goes still. Not from fear, but indecision. Trying to make sense of what he saw, what came out of those cargo doors before they even had a chance to react. 

“Starscream,” 

“I think it was a member of the ship's crew.” He sets his face, trying to look as still as Megatron always seems to manage without a struggle. “Driven mad maybe? Starvation? It attacked us and--Skywarp was injured. I shot it. We ran. Astrotrain wasn’t at the extraction point so Skywarp jumped us here.” And almost killed himself doing so, stupid stupid fool.

“You shot it?” There’s a disturbing mood brewing over Megatron that he doesn’t like. His leader trying to fit odd angled pieces together. “Did it emit a cry?” 

It did. He nods, not wanting to describe the wet squelch as it bit into his wingmate’s frame like it was nothing. The strangled sound and dripping crunch of metal. The way it screamed when Starscream shoved his canon into its blackened optic and almost melted the barrels trying to give TC time to pry Skywarp from it. 

“It’s dead.” He killed it. He knows he did because it let out a strangled, guttural noise before broken servos like shattered sheets of metal reached and bit into Starscream’s helm. Almost needlelike and sharp, likely trying to drag him back into the room where it emerged before it fell.

They didn’t stay to investigate. 

But Starscream knows he killed it because he saw the body give a final suffocating whimper. and collapsed.

He almost _felt_ it die. 

“Whatever that thing was, it sent a broadcast through our communications.” Megatron interrupted Starscream’s thoughts, face scrunched in consideration for the information. “As I’m certain you noticed, your seekers were affected - but it felt like a virus trying to worm its way into our individual systems.” 

“That explains Soundwave.” Starscream was too disturbed by the idea to remain distracted by the sheer indignity of the previous manhandling. Yes, he was going to get Megatron back for it later, but his own thoughts shifted to his leader’s injuries. They weren't like the others - clawed _in_. This looked like something tore its way _out._  

“I didn’t disconnect in time.” He dismisses further questions, voice low. “Minor injury. Right now we have to focus on getting the Nemesis back in working order. Once Shockwave can break away from Soundwave we’ll gather officers to delegate tasks. Decide what’s to be done about whatever that thing is on the ship - and what it did exactly.” 

“I told you I killed it.” 

“We don’t know that for certain. And until we have a better understanding of what happened here I’m not taking any chances. Skywarp will go into medical custody and any seeker that fell unconscious during this assault will be confined to the aviary under guard.” 

“What?!” 

“Don’t argue.” He’s met with a firm look, something unbreakable even by Megatron’s standards. “We’re in a state of alarm and without Soundwave’s maintenance our workload just quadrupled.”

“All this over a dying mech’s power surge?” Starscream shot back, lip curling while a dizziness battled for his balance. “We’re on emergency power and you want to keep tension down by locking up half the crew who happen to be the most anxious creatures on this ship?” 

Megatron lets out a heavy sigh, weary but not weak. Rubbing just under the injured edge of his helm before getting too close and Starscream can tell it pains him. 

“Prove to me that’s all this was and we can carry on as a lesser protocol dictates. But in the meantime I’m down half a force and my ship’s intelligence.” Starscream felt something turn in his tank, discomfort rising at Megatron’s presence. Something just felt wrong but he couldn't decide what. “I need your cooperation on this - so get off your imagined slights and act your rank rather than a pouting child.”

He would have argued more if Thundercracker didn’t chime in right then, a brief message about Skywarp’s condition - as well as Hook requesting Starscream’s attention. Something about his aerial force, probably trying to figure out what exactly happened there. Not that he’d know. If it was a virus, that wasn’t really his specialty, and they have safeguards for that. Soundwave being knocked on their aft wasn’t a great sign but they weren’t stranded. Things could, and have, been worse before. 

“Go.” Megatron ushers, likely receiving a similar message from Hook. “Secure Skywarp in the medical bay, do what you need to repair yourself quickly, and I want both you and Thundercracker present to meet in the war room once ready. Understood?” 

Lip back to curling, but he really had no choice. Really it was a travesty when Megatron was right. Tantrums and theatrics he could get away with unpunished when they weren't engaged with an enemy (seen or otherwise) - but it would only makes things worse if he tried to throw a fit now. Stupid, all of it, agreeing with Megatron.

“Yessir.” He doesn’t salute, already turning back with aching hands and a helm swollen painful from the patch. Hardly gets far before Megatron calls out for him, causing him to groan and glance back over a shoulder. “What now?” 

“We checked the hangar doors, they weren’t sealed - why couldn’t you get in that way?” 

Starscream flickers optics in a blinking motion, confused.

“We didn’t jump to the hangar. Skywarp got us just outside the weapons deck - closest to medbay. The hangar was on the other side of the ship from where we got in.” 

He doesn’t like the way Megatron’s chin turns, darkened brow ridge lowering.

“You didn’t call for the hangar to be opened?” 

“I called to have the medbay ready - and most importantly - I tried to reach Soundwave, though it makes sense now why they didn't answer. Besides, I wouldn’t call for _you_ to open a door.” Great. Megatron is also losing his mind along with his hearing. Amazing. “What’s the problem?” 

“Nothing, it must have been a bad communication.” Megatron clearly realizes his mistake, waving Starscream off with a brief shake of his helm and turning back towards the gloomy corridors. Optics pulsing with consideration. “Go take care of your trine, then come help me take care of our soldiers.” 

“Right…” 

\---

It takes hours to get the crew cleaned up. Collecting fallen seekers, taking count of those unable to perform duties, find those who went missing in the scuffle. Starscream manages to locate most of his brood, being their commander as well as the scion of Vos makes it easier. Can sense them where they fell off platforms or weren’t noticed in the seeker’s division of the Nemesis. The aviary chaotic as anything with the amount of injured and dazed. No dead. That’s good - a miracle really. 

Megatron seems distracted by the level of damage wrought without a battle and Starscream at least can work around his moodiness. Has years of practice.

They reassign and shift duties at random, hardly the best suited getting appropriate jobs. It’s a strenuous chore, deciding who is available or can spare the time. He takes over communication until Bitstream and Reflector can get navigation back up an running. Thundercracker taking over managing the new schedule while the Constructicons can split off - easily communicate within their shared conscious across the ship without need of current limited comms. 

Shockwave is useless trying to trace what happened but he has the twins at his side cheering him on - shaken but alive from the ordeal. Can’t imagine what THAT must be like, to have your own creator trying to attack and eradicate your functioning code. (Actually he can in a way and doesn’t miss his own creator at all.)

He only gets to stop in to check on Skywarp’s condition after nearly a full day. TC did better to stop in whenever he was close enough to the medical bay so he doesn't feel stressed about Skywarp being alone. Starscream lets Hook, grouchy and overworked, sass him for wasting time and pretends not to really _care_ about Skywarp. Saying he wants to gloat but lost a great deal of energy looking over his trinemate.

Stable but unconscious, Starscream supposes that’s alright for now but he really wants to speak to Skywarp. Actually, he hates the quiet without his useless babbling. Can’t imagine what it’s like for Thundercracker. 

He’s left alone at the berthside, datapads strewn across the space of the private room. (By private he means opaque plastic walls and a rickety frame keeping them apart from other patients) Glancing back to check Skywarp’s vitals every few minutes, not sure why, just relieved to see nothing has changed since last he looked. Sending a quiet assurance to Thundercracker who was busy trying to wrangle Insecticons into rewiring full systems with a spray bottle in one servo and rust sticks in the other. Better TC than him.

_“Starscream...”_

Someone calls his name and his head jolts up, heavy with exhaustion to address whomever stopped by.

There was no one there.

He looks to the berth, sees his trinemate still in stasis, unmoving. Mouth still and their bond sleepily drifting between them: silent.

 _“Starscream?”_   The voice again, familiar but he can’t pinpoint who. Not that he bothered to know every single Decepticon (another lie. He did. He uploaded the mass census that the wretched Tarn collected every season - he knew them all as well as Megatron).

He sets the datapad on the bed’s edge, rising to stand and glance around the flimsy privacy screen to the rest of the floor. A few other resting Decepticons, no movement in the dark. No Hook either, not a sound past what one might expect from an overflowing hospital wing. The odd gurgle and shift of resting bodies, something beeping soft and gently monitoring a patient. He rubs at the cauterized wound at his helm, the processor ache never really going away even after Scavenger provided an injection for exactly that. Turning around, taking another step further into the camp of sleeping Decepticons looking for who ever was calling for him.

 _"Starscream, are you listening?_ "

“Starscream!” 

He jolts back and almost knocks the canister right out of Thundercracker’s hand. Scrambling to balance, catching himself on the edge of the dais railing and going weak in joints at the sudden change of position.

“Whoa! Calm down.” TC holds the back of his arm carefully, optics narrowing in a scan as Starscream takes in his surroundings. Spark giving a quiet flex as his he makes himself dizzying turning his helm so quickly. 

 

He’s on the bridge. 

When did he get on the bridge? 

 

“You ok? You looked like you dozed off for a second.” His wingmate presses the energon container into his servos and it’s unusually warm - or is Starscream cold? 

“Skywarp--?” 

“Is fine. I just saw him, sleeping like a sparkling.” TC frowns, amused but hurt by the obvious lack of their third. Starscream can feel it, that worry knotting TC up like a broken net. “Your shift on the bridge is almost over, but I can take command now if you need some rest. You’ve been running around the ship since the war room meeting.” 

The war room, right. He was given his duties and took over the bridge for Megatron after Bitstream and the cassettes took communication. He remembered now, Reflector was worried about an outgoing signal and Soundwave’s little brats wanted to help. Shockwave let them.

“I can finish out the shift.” Starscream feels too tired to be embarrassed for the slip, falling asleep on duty: what if Megatron had seen? That’s the last thing they needed was the old rust bucket thinking he was unfit for duty. It was hard enough herding those injured seekers under guard, he wasn’t about to join them in a cage.

“Go visit Skywarp when you’re done, I think it’ll help.” 

Right.

He hadn’t visited Skywarp since he left him in Hook's care yesterday. 

“I’ll stop by if you promise not to tell him I did when he wakes up. I don’t want him to think I like him.” 

TC chuckles, whether or not he thought it was actually funny didn’t matter, it made him laugh and a small thread of tension lessened in his wings. 

“Just make sure to get some rest Screamer, we’re in for a long few days.” TC comments, moving off the platform to deliver cubes to the others sitting in the gloomy pit of stations - minimal screen lights and the rattle of generators almost too loud for the headache Starscream was suffering. A pain blossoming and almost evolving into an itch he didn’t have the energy to reach up and scratch. 

“We’ve suffered worse.” 

 


	3. Sights and Sounds

_"...they didn't come closer, didn't make any movement at all except for that damn swaying. For some reason the thought of an angler fish popped into my head.  The single point of light dangled into the darkness, hiding the thing that lures you in."_

-  “The Angler Fish”, The Magnus Archives

\---

It does not escape Megatron’s notice the way Starscream flinches and turns his eyes down at the footage. Soundless and distorted as it was, the image was still quite horrifying for even those who had not been there. 

Shockwave plays it again, slowest pace possible. Attempting to analyze the shape of the creature which attacked the away team and was likely responsible for this mess. Each time they return to the start of it,  the jerk of Skywarp’s body as he pulls open a frigid and rusted door, even Megatron finds discomfort in the way Skywarp was smiling as if nothing could be so normal. 

Then the battered door is opened, and there is something standing on the other side.

“Cybertronian.” Shockwave comments, over his shoulder Rumble makes a face of disgust as even in grainy footage from Starscream’s memory drive, the attacker looks _wrong_. “But of no recognizable design or notable markings.” 

That which they are supposed to consider a brethren is frozen on the screen. Boxed by the cracked door frame, body leaning towards it’s left while it’s helm twists uncomfortably to the right. Megatron knows moments after this  the thing will attack Skywarp. Lunge forward with a fractured mouth and mangled servos trying to bite and chew into the jet as Starscream’s camera goes mostly static. A scuffle, the flash and flare of gunfire as all they can see is a twisted and pale face, half broken and pinprick optics in the gray of distortion, as Starscream frees his wingmate from it’s grasp. 

There’s no footage beyond that moment. The thing dies according to Starscream, but hunched at Megatron's right,  his Second turns his body away from the sight of the attacker standing in the doorway. Optics flickering with unease as though Starscream expected the thing to crawl right out of the display and try for him once more. 

So rare a sight was it to find Starscream _unnerved_ that Megatron kept having to remind himself not to stare.

“You can conclude your presentation Shockwave,” Megatron nods, Shockwave acknowledging without a sound as Rumble pushes up from where he’s resting over Shockwave’s shoulder. Clicking off the display with a wave and a small look to his current caretaker seeking approval. 

Starscream becomes notably less tense, but his Second sneers at the edges when he resettles in his chair. Leaning back with all the arrogance of someone who was not just caught shrinking away from a mere image of an allegedly dead mech.

“There’s only so much we can gather from video alone.” Shockwave continues. “In appearance it resembles a decaying-body. Quite extensive erosion around the cranial region, implications of trauma to it’s inner abdominal sector, signs of decomposition and rust rot. By all accounts, with the amount of deterioration across the lower joints, I’m uncertain how this body moved at all.” Shockwave’s antennae readjust as he thinks. “Let alone how something could have survived dead space for an unspecified number of years.”

“I don’t care for what you’re implying.” Scrapper presses fingers into the table, helm shifting to the rest of the gathered war room. “This is starting to sound like...well...what moves when it should fall, lives when it should rust, and bites when it should rot?” 

“I’ll have none of that superstitious nonsense interrupting the task at hand.” Megatron warns, dismissing the paranoia immediately as he glances back to Starscream who’s wearing a similarly disappointed expression. 

“Whatever it was, there were signs of engine tampering - a power line was manipulated afterall.” Starscream rises, blue claws deft as they pull up the holo-display of the ship. Incomplete, interior corridors still a mystery outside of what the Trine had seen firsthand. Currently they were working off a map like a gutted beast. Half dark and lines like bones jutting out of the tissue. “My guess, this ship sustained major damage, got too close to a wormhole or upset a foreign entity or something. Craft left in ruins, most of the crew dead. This wretched survivor held up in the cargo bay, pulled what unrefined energy they could from the last functioning engine core.”

There’s a far off look in Starscream’s gaze, something hazy and seeing right through the gently circling map. Recalling something perhaps, distant and cold. “It would be a mercy if he were in stasis before the rot set in.”

“You actually believe what occurred was merely a half dead mech rising from slumber?” Megatron comments, unconvinced. 

Strangely Starscream doesn’t flare or flicker his wings when he continues. Voice lower than is normal, tired sounding. Not too much of a surprise as it has only been two days since the attack and Skywarp’s injuries. Neither he nor Soundwave had managed to recover any notable percent, both still slumbering unmoving in the medbay. But it was something the room seemed aware of, how heavy the seeker’s wings hung low behind him.

“To use a crude organic term,” Starscream answers with a sigh, less of a razor’s edge to his tone than is usual. “ _Ghost in the Machine_. This miserable soul tried to keep functioning  merging with the raw power core tether? Who knows what else they did to keep alive.” 

Shockwave seems to pick up on Starscream’s direction, expressionless helm nodding in soft motion.

“Assimilation, it is not uncommon when the body is compromised.” He whispers, clearly thinking on such past cases. “Scrambling to live they might have attempted, and failed, a mental upload to their own ship.” 

“The emotional surge, this _worm_ you experienced, was likely quite literally the lingering impression of sentient coding trying to escape whatever horror was our survivor’s last moments of consciousness.” Starscream pauses, wings stiff. “With the Nemesis running off Soundwave’s designed network - well - we all know emotion is how they run this ship. Imagine being overwhelmed with the last glimpse of life.” 

“Quite literally an emotional overburden.” Scrapper sounds doubtful, but Megatron goes by the shared consideration between Shockwave and Starscream, and thinks the outrageous might be more believable than a planned attack. Also less embarrassing on their behalf for cracking something better left alone. 

“As it stands,” Megatron rises, passing Starscream with a servo almost reaching for his shoulder. (For what? Comfort?) “We are down a priority officer and over eighty percent of our ship functions have gone unresponsive. Personal communication abilities are in disrepair and our control of our own lockdown sequence is fleeting. We’re lucky we’re holding at life support and routine necessities. But until we’re restored I expect all of you to hold your own divisions and expanded duties with the same level of attention as befitting your station. Keep physical communicators on you, report any and all additional damages or malfunctions. We need to get ahead of this mess as quickly as possible.” 

Scrapper nods, Shockwave considers, Rumble salutes (and looks once more to Shockwave for validation) and Starscream only stares like he didn’t hear a thing as the rest present don’t hesitate to agree.

“Is that understood?” 

The chorus of yessir and chairs moving would deafen, but Megatron’s focus can only drift along the sluggish motion of Starscream excusing himself without another sound. In appearance slouching as he moves out the door, no snarl or petty comment to be made - no usual challenge of their orders.

“His trine is compromised.” Shockwave’s voice is hardly a surprise over Megatron’s right. “We’ve not seen this before, whatever is happening with Soundwave, Skywarp…the rest.”  

“Are you implying the seekers are also compromised as a whole?” 

“No, sir.” Shockwave does not move as Rumble climbs down his body, shifting to collect datapads left behind, try to make himself useful as he would were it Soundwave directing the meeting. “But perhaps we should keep a closer eye on them - the hierarchy of seekers is temperamental at best. We do not need any further distraction.” 

-

It doesn’t take much to catch up to Starscream. Wide steps conquering ground faster than blue tipped pedes could crawl. Megatron’s shadow falls over Starscream and it doesn’t draw a reaction from his usually so paranoid Second, that far off look remaining in dull red optics. 

“When was your last rest?” 

“After my hold of the bridge, if you bothered to read the circulating docket - you know the one Shockwave keeps changing like a mad man - you might have known that.” 

Megatron keeps pace with Starscream, finding it almost difficult to shorten his steps. Never realized before that Starscream had ever matched _his_ speed when they conversed in motion.

“You seem unwell.” The scathing look he receives was certainly more Starscream-like. Lip curled and exhaustion apparent between the lines of irritation.

“Checking up on me?” 

“No. Simply wondering if your behavior is influenced at all by the recent computer trouble we’ve been having. Soundwave -” 

Starscream let out a sharp noise, stopping to turn on Megatron, wings never once rising up to emote. 

“I’m not broken, I’m not hurt and I’m most certainly not compromised.” Hisses, assuming well the point of Megatron’s attention. “You’d be surprised how incompetent a ship full of Decepticons are, most have never attended any form of education beyond basic training and we’re missing a great deal of hands right now. So if you don’t mind I have better things to do than assure you I’m not about to start hissing and hiding behind doors.” 

“That’s normal behavior.” Megatron comments dryly, perhaps outside of this tension it might have been received better. Of course Starscream is the last creature in the universe who can laugh at himself. 

“You-!” He throws up hands to his optics, claws rubbing in the worn, weary marks left behind in their sudden strained state. “I’m not going to tolerate this much further I’ll have you know. First, First! You send us out there when I told you I TOLD YOU that it was a waste of time! And then Astrotrain abandons us just as we’re attacked - and I can promise you that when I find out where that little coward is hiding I’ll leave him in a much worse state than he tried to leave us! And then this? I don’t have the patience or strength to bounce between running half this ship and---” 

“You can’t find Astrotrain?” Megatron interrupts, the small action sending Starscream into a fit of expressions. 

“The bastard is probably hiding under some box knowing I’ll---hey!” 

Starscream glares when Megatron pulls the communicator from the recent addition all division leaders now wore. It was almost impossible to get a message across the main computers - Bitstream and Reflector still struggling without Soundwave’s intimate knowledge of the system. But at least shortwave still worked, older tech always held on to the last moment. 

“Blitzwing.” He calls, watching Starscream slouch against the bulkhead, arms crossed and at least knowing better than to try and scurry off. Muttering to himself _“you think I didn’t already ask?”_ while he was ignored otherwise.

[Yes, Lord Megatron?] The voice answers, thin and low with the same unshakable static that seemed to have settled across their ship like a storm.

“Astrotrain and you are assigned to patrol along the lower decks - is he with you?” 

Static answered before,

[No sir. I haven’t seen him.]

“I could have told you that.” Starscream speaks a little sharper and it almost sounds like his usual tone as Megatron waves him off.

“You’re normally in charge of final checks and launch control - were you there when Astrotrain returned from the abandoned ship?” Blitzwing stumbles over something, the distortion making it difficult to make out as it seemed Megatron was in a poor spot. He moved, nudging Starscream back as he drew closer and the line at least cleared a little. “Repeat that.” 

[Sir, I told Commander Starscream the same thing and I swear it’s true.] He sounded frustrated, almost distressed. [I haven’t seen Astrotrain since he took off with the Command Trine to the ship.]

Megatron ends the call with little prompt, frown deep enough that it caught Starscream’s attention and curious mind.

“I know that look, usually we’re attacked seconds after.” The seeker’s face is pinched as he looms in, turning his head to the side in fixation. “You’ve realized something?” 

“The last visual we had on the decaying ship, Astrotrain was still there. Waiting for your trine.” He’s trying to remember if there was something he remembered wrong, but it was a messy moment on the bridge. The crumbling bodies, the shrill pain deafening and wounding as the sounds of a scrap took place beyond his reach. “If Astrotrain is shirking his duties, there better be a reason--”

Megatron’s gaze drifts just above Starscream’s helm in time to see something charging them on all fours.

His processor flares in alarm, the sparse moment of visuals, the hurried shape scuffling towards them with incredible speed - soundless as it moves. Only the glint of a wet, misshapen mouth stretched and dragging along the floor...

“Get down!” Roaring as his cannon rises, yanking Starscream’s form behind him with no thought to strength as he thrust his arm forward ready to catch the weight of the attacker or fire upon --

 

Nothing.

 

There’s nothing there.

“What is WRONG with you!?” Starscream shrieks just out of sight, Megatron’s spark fluctuating in surprise as he keeps weapon raised. Sweeping his visuals and expanding fields in delicate alert searching for whatever it was that just---that was here?

Only two exits in sight, the end of the corridor and behind them. He would have seen it dive past! Megatron looks up quickly, half expecting to see a dark shape clinging to blackened corridor lights the emergency generators could not power - but empty. Glances behind, there’s only Starscream picking himself up from the floor. Snarling and scowling as he does so - but no figure or hunched _thing_ crawling away and into the dark.

“There-” He begins, trying to replay his own memories. Shifting through the last kliks of his visuals...only to find the moment he looked up and shoved Starscream away: the hallway was empty. 

Sharp claws push into his chest as the seeker bullies him aside, taken off guard and stumbling back as he replays once more the moment - the empty hallway. No running shape. Then what did he see??

“There _what?_ ” Starscream demands, looking at the charged weapon and even though his anger was apparent, Megatron can see the turn of his optics, looking for danger as wings tense. “Well?” 

Megatron prepares to answer, truly, but the image of the starved Cybertronian plays across his thoughts. The stiff motion, the crude shape - combined with the dark corridors and the proof of his own recordings that nothing was there…

Nothing had been there, so why did he...

“Megatron?” Starscream’s helm tilts, curious but still cautious. Watching him with thinly veiled suspicion as Megatron stares back into the nearly black hallways, the smallest flicker of emergency lights igniting shadows to dance down the bleak and dim length.

“It’s nothing.” He decides, voice resetting as his cannon powers down. Frowning away from his Second who he had just accused of being unwell when Megatron was just as overworked as he. “Shadows playing tricks I suppose.”

“You’re kidding me.” The seeker’s tone was irritated, but he rubbed the back of his helm, falling from tense to exhausted as his blue claws worried at a freshly sealed injury. “Next time you decide to spook like some fledgling in the dark don’t throw me!” 

He doesn’t apologize, too focused on the moment, trying to recall what he believed he saw but even now, Megatron found he simply couldn’t grasp the illusion. Couldn’t really remember what it was he believed was approaching. Just the image still of the poor dead thing on the other ship lingered in his mind. Frozen in static of Shockwave’s presentation, stood in the doorway as if it had been waiting patiently to be let out for years.

“If you stop into the medbay,” _To see Skywarp_ Megatron doesn’t say. “Have Hook send me an update on Soundwave. I have soldiers covering basic functions of the generators but I’d much prefer we get us running before any further bad luck strikes.” 

“I was there a few hours ago, but Thundercracker and I are taking turns. I’ll tell him when I see him, in case he gets there first.” Starscream’s wings lowered, back to the sagging position as before which felt so wrong, so strange on the other. But with his own spark tense from whatever crossed wires had produced the unfortunate scare moments ago - Megatron no longer felt he had the attention span to worry. There was too much going on with this ship, all servos on deck, tired or not. He couldn’t afford to be seen as bowing to the stress of their current predicament, especially not by Starscream.

Starscream, who was looking at him with a long stare as he lowered his servo from his helm, searching for something.

“Well?”  Megatron dropped his tone to imply annoyance and Starscream was unfazed, giving a small shrug to his shoulder and moving to pass. Ensuring there was plenty of space between their bodies as he did - causing Megatron to tighten with certainty that his scare would not be so easily dismissed. 

-

Bitstream got lucky. 

At least he thinks he did, running down the corridors, trying to navigate in the cramped and dim spaces not built to support flight. Stupid groundpounders, a ship carrying seekers should be built wide enough to accommodate their main aerial force, not just the upper levels and pathways to the deployment hangar! 

But that didn’t matter. Most Decepticons were busy at work so there weren’t any lugging bodies to maneuver around. Just quiet halls and emergency lights guiding him through the unnatural silence of the Nemesis - trying desperately to reach the bridge where he hoped to find Lord Megatron.

It was by miracle, or perhaps his work with Soundwave was finally paying off, that he noticed Astrotrain’s transmission at all. Reflector told him not to bother, that in the mess of the audio attack and whatever worm or virus embedded itself into the ship - a single measly transmission from Astrotrain wasn’t going to matter. But it did. He tracked it when Reflector wasn’t looking, not wanting them to take credit for his discovery! It’s what Commander Starscream would do afterall, what he encouraged in his own behavior. One doesn’t climb rank by sharing and splitting accomplishments after-all and Bitstream was grinning from helm clip to helm clip as he rounded the corner, clutching the fistful of captured code protectively.

The transmission didn’t come from Astrotrain at all.

He was giddy, having listened to clean the fragmented vocals. Translating it to a more modern broadcast so it wouldn’t require all the equipment of the communications hub. 

All he could think of was presenting his discovery to Lord Megatron, watching Commander Starscream’s twisted pride at having one of his subordinates uncover such a crucial piece of information! He might even be granted his own division to lead! Imagine - and Bitstream did - being elevated from mere patrol work to one of Starscream’s ranked trines! 

He couldn’t wait to shove this into Sunstorm’s face - let that religious sycophant choke on his own declarations that he could pray this black out away. Idiot. Once again science will carry them through and the gaping look on his smug little--

“Bitstream.” Starscream called out.

Pedes make a soft noise as he comes to an abrupt halt, pulling the data closer to his canopy as he observes the surroundings. Mostly cargo holds sealed and checked, some half open doors that malfunctioned during the attack, and movement to the left a little ways back.

“Commander?” He turns, trying to make out the shape as he approached the room. One of the two doors in locked position while the other was halfway open on it’s tracks, frozen for the moment until they could find a way to reboot the Nemesis. Inside was just stacked boxes, metal crates and long containers - weapons or unknown equipment. Manifests weren't his focus so Bitstream just leaned inside trying to follow the smallest movement in the dark room - too dark for even his optics and their modifications to see. 

Like a static disruption had overcome his visuals, getting worse as he tried to reset the functions. Must be by one of the cheaply woven generator lines, the Constructicons hadn’t really done a great job sealing those off and Bitstream could only do so much to complain. 

“Bitstream.” Starscream again, something inside the room shuffled and Bitstream watches as the glint of pale and red moved out from the distortion of the dark, catching the smallest stream of light provided by the corridor. “I know that look -- You’ve realized something.” 

He couldn’t see Starscream’s face, but his voice was patient and low. Probably exhausted, but weren’t they all? 

“Oh, of course sir. I was about to come find you actually.” He answers, stepping into the room with a habitual pulse of acknowledgement towards his Seeker Superior. Finding Starscream’s returning pulse was lacking but still very much the same sharp warmth of their brood. “I was in the process of clearing files that were affected by the bizarre auditory attack and-- I think Lord Megatron should be present. I believe this could--” 

“I’ll tell him when I see him..” Starscream cut him off, standing in the shadows, not approaching. 

Bitstream takes a hesitant step back as something cold sighs across his wings, causing them to jerk and pull tight. 

“What is wrong with you?” Commander Starscream echoes from the dark, the smallest movement catching Bitstream’s attention - watching as what he had believed to be his Seeker Superior’s wing caught more light - revealing itself as a spare welding sheet and nothing more.

“Sir?” He sends out another pulse, searching now for something deeper. For something _only_ Starscream could answer. 

The response is exactly what Bitstream expected. Starscream’s field dripping into his own, the merging of sparks from a distance as the unified sigh between himself and his Commander was confirmed.

Except Starscream’s response came from many floors above them.

Bitstream was about to tuck the data back into subspace - but found he couldn’t access the device. Goes to bring up a weapon instead and like a flare across his spark is wracked with incredible pain. Twisting and pulling until he can only let out a sharp cry and scramble to remain standing, the data drive clattering to the floor as his servos flex in pain across a crate’s lid.

“Who are you!?” He yells, chokes and digs claws deeper into the lid, overwhelmed by the agony _ripping_ its way across his very spark. 

A voice from behind exhales cold and quiet, _“Hungry”_ , just as the second half of the door snaps closed.

  



	4. Shed

_“We ask only to be reassured about the noises in the cellar and the window that should not have been open.”_

-T.S. Eliot, The Family Reunion 

\---

“I believe Megatron has finally lost his mind.” Starscream brushes the edges of the scrape with a rough sneer, knowing it would be some time before a proper cosmetic repair could be arranged. “Seeing things in shadows, tossing his soldiers like children’s toys at his own careless panic.” 

Skywarp does not respond to Starscream’s complaints. Skywarp does nothing in fact beyond the gentle hum of his spark vibrating the space between them. Catching Starscream’s field and drifting gentle and fragmented against his own thoughts. This stillness did not suit his trine mate in the least - equally unnerving and infuriating Starscream who resisted a quick-tempered urge to merely shake Skywarp awake. Doubtful it would work, but maybe it would make him feel better.

Banned from exiting the ship, banned from walking the decks without company, Megatron had quickly made a prison of the Nemesis to ensure immediate accessibility to any soldier he might require. It wasn’t exactly a foolish action but it didn’t leave much room for the individual to get space from overworked and irate Decepticons who had no clue as to what was going on any more than their commanding officers. 

The idea of a fragmented mind trapped as an imprint waiting to erupt was hardly something a scientific mind should consider as the cause of all this mess. But Starscream also knew very little else outside of an intelligent trap could have done it. There were no signs of tampering on the ghost ship, no residual craft radiation from potential enemies leaving a dark present for them - and he very much doubts Autobots would leave one of their own starving to death in half a ship JUST in case the Nemesis came into proximity. 

There was an emergency beacon, unknown unnamed and unclaimed by any code or transmission structure they recognized. It’s the strange which caught Megatron’s attention and left them to this pathetic state. He never listens, never will.

It’s not that Starscream really wanted to support the very idea he presented as potential cause...the last thing Starscream wanted to think about was a stranded mech’s dying cry being such a horrific thing. Trapped. Alone. Forgotten. Abandoned. Waiting for someone to save him...

He shakes his helm and there’s pain radiating from the scratch the _thing_ left behind. Swear he can feel fuel swell up once more from the sealed wound but a soft swipe of his hand proves that to be false.

“You’ll never believe it, but I’m beginning to miss Soundwave.” Starscream deflates, wings aching and heavy from lack of proper rest over the past cycles. Having slept tucked up against an old crate while taking turns with Dirge to assist the Constructicons task of worming power lines from functioning generators across the levels of the ship. A disruptive sleep as it was, thinking back to the ghost ship still lurking out there in the dark - little more than debris that radiated a cold chill up Starscream’s back whenever thought of too long. 

That ship which also wove power through it’s useless, lightless husk trying to survive. Starscream was not a fan of the similarities. 

Skywarp did not bolt upright to mock Starscream of his confession, which almost surprised him. His patched body both quiet and motionless beyond the monitoring drones which hovered overhead - marking any fluctuations in his processor, his thoughts. Nothing. No sign Skywarp was even dreaming in his sudden slumber. 

That was the most difficult part really, Starscream thinks as he rises. Hesitant to brush the edge of a knuckle against his wing mate’s jaw in a chiding motion, feeling his own expression stiffen with dislike of Skywarp’s appearance. It was as if he were a million lightyears away, present, but out of reach. Thundercracker and Starscream could _feel_ him, their third, but it was like grasping through mist unable to clutch any substantial threads of Skywarp’s thoughts to reel him back to them. 

Thundercracker was handling it well enough, distracting himself with work. Trying to get the ship back in order as soon as they were able - in hopes of finding someone who could help. TC was smiling still which felt as painful as biting his own tongue to watch - but Starscream didn’t have the strength to complain about the facade if it kept Thundercracker going.

“I won’t be back.” He lies to his quiet third, trying to force his wings to hold high over his shoulders and finds himself completely zapped of strength to keep them there for long. Slouching against the berth’s edge as he looks over Skywarp one last time. “I’d tell you to wake up as an order, but you never listen to me anyways.” 

He told Skywarp not to open that door, but it had been too late - and that thing was just standing there waiting for them. A lightless gaze dim and hollow searching them, Starscream could still hear the rusted clicks of the optical lens shifting in the grotesque socket as if puppeted by a hand behind the wires. Forced to move against its will. 

Bitstream sends a greeting, it’s enough to distract him for the moment. Pull him from dark reverie as Starscream responds to the polite gesture, wondering why Bitstream would be doing so? Maybe he was growing annoyed at Reflector and sought solace in his superiors? Who knew with these younger seekers. They were all so easily startled by the dark. All felt the walls closing in on them with such raw intensity that Starscream was finding it almost comical how quickly they seemed to fall in line the moment he swallowed down his own natural precaution to meet Megatron’s stride. 

Starscream had lived in the dark before where not many seekers had. The former gladiators and slum dwellers of the Nemesis adjusted rather quickly but his seekers were not fans. They didn’t have much time before the anxiety began to spread and then Megatron and he would have a whole new problem to deal with.

He leaves Skywarp’s side without looking back, weaving quiet and expertly through the arranged bunks stacked with sleeping Decepticons. Most affected by the unknown _ringing_ the ship had experienced had woken. Most. Some had opted to lighter duty and returned to the medical bay for security sake, not wanting to be alone on their resting shifts. It was certainly a mess, odd shapes scarcely lit along the edges by the thin blue light of medical equipment, computer screens and glowing canisters stacked in preparation of another potential “attack”. It did remind Starscream of early days in the war, when half their squadrons would shuffle in and pile on top of each other to rest. Cradling weapons and supplies as casually as bedmates in those exhausting struggles to even be seen as more than a rabble force out of Kaon’s lesser hovels. 

Those early days, piling with his trine on top of a steel box housing their latest cache of weapons, hardly enough room for their three bodies and jutting wings. Listening to the echoes of snoring engines and shuffling brutes in the pit surrounding them - the presence of Megatron stalking through the halls of first branded Decepticons, always the last to sleep. Counting the steps of his leader’s bulky steps, like a tempered song of rattling armor, to lull himself to rest.

Megatron who had been doing the same brooding steps through the open levels of the Nemesis since this attack, not getting enough rest and making a nuisance of himself where those with actual technical skills tried to undo the damages. Someone was going to have to talk to him, force him back into his role of mere observation and final command. That was always Starscream’s role it seemed and he wasn’t looking forward to being stared at like he was the problem. 

After all it was Megatron who was spooked by shadows.

Soundwave is kept in the main suite - protected by glass walls meant to withstand a great deal of force in case Megatron ever was left in a delicate state. Starscream kept his steps silent as they can be, glancing through the nearly opaque walls to try and make sense of the shapes inside. The many, many monitors for Soundwave’s many, many minds all static and fractured code as whatever brought down the mighty telepath still held them well within its grip. 

Frenzy stood guard, small body propped on his own chair where legs swung well off the floor - face illuminated by the datapad where he reads outloud to his fallen parent. Dutiful child when not being an absolute terror, Starscream supposes, his own servos still scarred and left in streaky patches from his action to save the two cassettes when Shockwave and Hook were too busy panicking to do anything. If Soundwave wakes, Starscream can’t wait to hold this over their heads for all eternity.

When. When Soundwave wakes - to doubt otherwise would also put Skywarp into that category of uncertainty and Starscream was not a creature who let go of his things easily. They both would rise and he would get to yell at them both for such dramatics.

He considered going into the room, to upset the little cassette and wiping that mournful expression from his stupid face when Bitstream called again - this time with more urgency and old presentation. 

A more intimate recall, requesting something from Starscream that only the one carrying the hub of seekers could answer. Rarely used, really only utilized in moments of suspected influence. It wasn’t something Starscream considered appropriate to use for even a nervous seeker in the dark - his reply was as specific as he could make it - but if Bitstream was going to abuse his open connection just to demand special attention from Starscream! Spoiled little technician who thought himself _special_ for not falling prey to the alarm which sent almost all seekers offline for brief moments, Starscream would be happy to waste some time correcting that little nerd. 

 “Where are you?” He sends the communication moments after the imploring pulse, knocking into a tray and sending a few tools scattering to the floor. He meets with Frenzy’s startled gaze briefly but doesn’t have time to pretend he cares about spooking him, pushing through the raised plastic privacy  drapes keeping patients from one another to make his exit. “Bitstream I’m talking to y--”

[Commander Starscream. I was about to come find you actually.]

“Oh, is that so?” Starscream stepped out into the mostly empty halls, easily stepping over a few slumbering mechs crouched in the corridors. Moving towards the general direction of where he senses Bitstream’s earlier call. “What are you doing in the lower decks, you know those are sealed off except for engineers.” What was this idiot thinking?! “If you get me in trouble with Megatron because you--” 

Static, just like all communications outside of their junky little radios he was forced to wear. He reaches for it and finds that he must have left it at Skywarp’s bedside. He’d have to go back and...

[Lord Megatron. Present.]

Starscream pauses midstep, feeling a tension crawl across his wings as he takes in the information.

“Why is Lord Megatron there?” 

Less static this time, perhaps seeker to seeker wasn’t so distorted?

[I believe. You. Should be present.]

“Of course I should be present!” Starscream huffs, pushing back towards his original pathway, all thoughts of the radio washed from his thoughts at the idea that Megatron would meet in private with one of STARSCREAM’S officers without telling him first! “Just stay there, I’ll catch up to you in a few moments.” He orders, cutting the connection before Megatron could have a chance to decline his involvement, rotten brute that he was. What could he possibly be thinking - already seeing shadows and holding clandestine meetings in the decks most affected by the blackout?!

Starscream, not for the first time, considers he’s the only one with a damn line of common sense in his coding in the entire army! Storming his way through past the lift doors that haven’t worked since--

The control lights were on.

He comes to a stop before them, confused as none of the lift systems had been online since the original incident. It forced them all to take underused and tiring pathways back and forth through the ship. Had someone gotten the elevators back up and running? 

Starscream approaches and the doors part without command. Slow, but without any hiccups in the machinery that might imply the power source was fluctuating in connection. It would take him far longer to _walk_ and waste so much energy trying to fly there until the halls grew too cramped to support his wings. If he wanted to make sure Megatron didn’t get away with thinking he could just do whatever he wanted - while the rest of the ship was under exhausted work loads - he needed to be there as soon as he could.

The doors are open, waiting for him. Empty and fully lit, no shadows inside to imply it is in any way still changed by the power outage. 

Starscream steps inside and the doors ease closed behind him.

-

“Frenzy, you’re still here.” Shockwave approaches with loud steps, his form filling the space at the young cassette’s right. He was greeted with something less than respectful measure, a tired nod and Frenzy was quick to return to his datapad. Scribbling away as he sat with poor posture at Soundwave’s berthside. Having refused to leave it since Shockwave managed to undo the damages both the young mechs had suffered.

“Where else would I be?” He answers with a nasally voice, young and tired. His mood was certainly knotted with exhaustion. Overwhelming concern for his creator only logical, Shockwave could confidently observe. And accept the terms of the younger Decepticon’s space.

“Your sibling has retired for the evening, you should join him.” 

“I’m fine.” Frenzy doesn’t look up from his work and Shockwave gives pause to calculate the best method of dealing with such stubbornness. How Soundwave did it was, simply put, admirable. 

“Ravage is concerned for your wellbeing.” Shockwave stands tall, turning arms behind his back and taking the moment to observe Soundwave’s unmoving form. The intricate wiring and connectors keeping Hook aware of every fluctuation in the officer’s mind - the endless displays of varying pulse rates and levels all a blur in the sight of the Decepticon’s greatest asset, rendered useless with a single sound. 

“Ravage hasn’t even been by, what does _she_ care?” 

Normally numbers - statistics and facts - would comfort Shockwave in times he found himself tangled in mental displeasure. Unwelcome circumstances made under his control with simple figures dictating how he must proceed while maintaining his intentional goal.

Unfortunately he was not finding any numbers to make the sight of Soundwave in such state less intolerable than it was. It left him feeling…

No. That was all. It left him feeling. 

“I would request you refuel and seek rest at an appropriate time. We will require all capable soldiers at the ready.” 

“I’m doing a job.” Frenzy whines and lifts a tired helm to finally acknowledge Shockwave. Little features twisted in displeasure soon to falter and fall to something wounded and small. Still a fledgling after all, my how Soundwave spoils their eternal children Shockwave thinks fondly. “I want to be here when Soundwave wakes up.” He insists and Shockwave can only agree with the sentiment. It would be nice to see such a thing.

“I will arrange items of comfort to be brought to you.” He gives in with little pressure, finding no logical argument to separate Frenzy from his parent. Rumble was having a difficult time seeing Soundwave in this state, it was only logical to keep him busy with work, permit the young cassette to assist in his own tripled tasks. It seemed to help but Shockwave knew he was at a loss of how to care for these children.

“Thanks.” Frenzy smiles, it’s forced and weak, but the purpose was understood and Shockwave accepted without additional pressure. Allowing the other to return to his focus on the tablet. 

“They will be happy to see you.” He comments, resting his hand on the small shoulder - having learned the gesture from Soundwave and feeling it was a good time to utilize the behavior. “May I ask what you are working on?” 

He wasn’t disillusioned enough that he assumed Frenzy would be working on his studies - or something to aid in their current predicament. But Soundwave once explained showing interest in the cassettes hobbies would only show Shockwave’s intention as their secondary caretaker. It seemed to bond them in those first years, even if Soundwave disagreed that missile launchers or remote controller stealth bombers were good _shared_ interests. Shockwave personally disagreed, of course, but unsurprisingly lost that discussion.

“Starscream was here.” Frenzy spoke up, pulling the datapad away and lifting a stylus off its surface. “He knocked over some stuff and rushed out like an idiot.”

“Yes, that sounds like Starscream.” Shockwave would make note of this for future observations.

“I didn’t recognize the mech who was behind him though.” Frenzy continues, not realizing that Shockwave’s entire demeanor changed drastically at such comment. 

“You...did not recognize them?” The scientist would worry his tone was too obvious as he found the strength to turn his focus from Soundwave, needing to gently pull Frenzy’s full attention on him. “What do you mean, you did not recognize them?”

“Yea, they were - strange? They didn’t say anything. Just stood behind Starscream and followed him when he left. I drew them, was gonna ask you later.” Frenzy held up the datapad to reveal the sketch committed to digital memory. The mech who was quite familiar to Shockwave - even without the rust and deformed features charging across a security recording.

“Frenzy, how long ago was this?” 

The cassette was beginning to feel Shockwave’s concern, his entire posture changed into worry as if he were about to get into trouble.

“A couple hours - why?” 

“We must summon Lord Megatron immediately.” 

\--

“Bitstream!” Starscream calls out once more, mood sour by the time he reaches the lower levels.

He stands encased in the dark of the full reach of the blackout. Only the odd rumble of distant generators and rushing pipes laid deep within the walls respond to his calls. Bitstream was no longer answering him, silence holds as Starscream wanders the abandoned place. Searching, bringing his steps lighter and lighter with each passing minute he was not met by his subordinate and leader.

Each second crawling by as he begins to suspect neither were actually present in these chilling halls.

Was it possible Bitstream had lied to him? Claiming to be in meeting with Megatron just to get him out of the way? For what purpose - if the little slagger was playing some game of rank and recognition Starscream would have his head! Trying to embarass him like this! He always thought the idiot was a suck up, of course he underestimates the clever flatterers! But what seeker in his right mind would use Megatron as bait for Starscream? Not that it, didn’t obviously work, but it was starting to feel ridiculous. Perhaps he had misinterpreted Bitstream’s location?

He continues onward, silent as one can be with clicking heels down an abandoned corridor. Starscream thought to double back, take the lift back to the upper levels - but the further he went the more the pathways and turns began to look less familiar. As if Starscream was in some different part of the Nemesis than he originally believed. But that was impossible, the full schematics and his own years of personally mapping the ship were uncorrupted. Perfectly imprinted on his memory banks and even they said he was going the correct way.

So why then, did everything look so different? Why did the walls seem to draw closer, the path grow so narrow when these levels should be able to support the size of their greatest fighters? Every corner taken leading to a stretching hallway he did not know? Why wasn’t he recognizing his own home?

Enough was enough, Starscream had to contact Thundercracker. Their bond was greater than any distorted radio and he needed to find a way out of here before Megatron noticed his absence and assumed he was slacking off. Perhaps that was Bitstream’s plan? He’d almost be impressed if he wasn’t certain to trap the other in eternal floor scrubbing duty. Finding anger made him feel better as he opened up his bond to reach his trinemate.

[Thundercr--]

A shriek tears through his processor sending him scrambling to cover his external receptors. Instinctively moving to muffle the sound as his computers struggle to function and disable the sensors. It feels like something is slicing through him, dissecting his mind and tearing out the pieces not bolted down - ripping away at him in ways Starscream had not thought possible as he falls to knees. Cradling his helm trying to escape the vicious sound trying to gut him. 

Thoughts scramble and shatter as quickly as they form - preventing him not only from making an escape plan but leaving him helpless against the ground. Bearing teeth in a grimace as he felt something _pop_ internally against the endless scream.

Was this the sound that sent the Nemesis spiraling into the dark? Was it trying to swallow him whole just like Soundwave?

The image of Megatron comes to mind. Distorted in the harrowing sound, but the memory of his erupted receptor, bleed stain dripping down beneath his helm, commenting with distance how he was unable to disconnect his hearing in time. Starscream extends the claws of his servo, pushing them to full length as he braces himself to dig the sharpened tips into his own helm - hoping he was focused enough to miss any delicate components. If this mutilation would make this agony stop than perhaps for once Megatron had the better idea. Really anything was better than falling to this sound.

 

It stops before he even dents the side of his helm.

 

His claws find no purchase where they dug past the external vents, not even getting a chance to leave a scratch when the horrid sound abruptly stops and leaves Starscream aching and stumbling for purchase. Processor glitching, head swimming, and his optics click on and off to refocus in the dark.

By the time Starscream was able to lower servos from his head, let them rest braced on the floor before him, his proximity field was back to maximum reach and slowly filing in reports to Starscream’s stuttering computers. Checking for dangers and unseen threats while Starscream remains partially numb to his surroundings. He takes a few kliks, finding even the artificial gravity felt too strong. His body too heavy against the bleak floors as his wings hung low on either side of him. Something more than lack of sleep in these past couple days.

This was all getting ridiculous.

First this mess, then Megatron seeing things in the dark, and now Starscream was hearing it too? Ridiculous! Starscream can’t imagine anything getting worse than their currently little miserable fest. He really should just take his seekers and find the nearest-

 

It has been many years since Starscream has had to suffer the abomination of snow, but he still knows it well. The unforgiving chill, the frigid specks falling from a blank sky without mercy as the cold wind and icy hell of a foreign world tries to swallow him whole. 

He knows the sensation as he watches his servos become marked with the tiny flecks falling from above. One, five, thirteen little pale crumbles of frozen water dropping almost without weight onto the surface of blue. Leaving them shaking when he struggles to raise them. Too afraid to even lift them from their current position on the cold metal floor as more falls and begins to cover the black hallway with pale, insufferable cold.

Starscream is almost so distracted by the nauseous sensation crawling over his body, that he’s nearly deaf to the report of his proximity field, screaming that something is behind him. 

He darts to the side just as something lunges forward. The heavy clatter of wet metal and an acidic hiss fills Starscream’s head with recognition. Scrambling up as he watches the shadow’s shape shift and move - become more clear as it straightens and Starscream sees what it truly is. Rising to full height as the jaw dangles low across the rusted chest. The sickening gurgle deep within it’s throat forcing Starscream to fight the urge to shudder.

To his credit, he thinks, he really did think he killed this mech back on the ghost ship.

Starscream draws weapons just as it lunges again, forcing him to crouch and push back on heels instead. His body bowing mid leap and transforming in one smooth motion just as the rush of claws - or mutilated rotten servos - swing just past his wings. The thing screeching in pain as Starscream ignites his back thrusters across the mangled face and jets off down the cramped halls. 

There’s really no room to fly, but that hasn’t stopped him before. Twisting and losing ground  in choked speed at every turn, listening and _feeling_ his attacker charging just behind him. This thing skittering across the floor - the walls - the ceiling. It’s faster than Starscream can fly in these tight, winding corridors. It would pounce on him if he slows to attack - he can’t even turn around to aim weapons properly! He curses as his body scrapes and slams into the walls as he goes. Losing momentum weaving about the labyrinth walls as the thing follows without trouble. The sound of dragging claws and that wet, throaty breath like a drowning scream, drawing closer with every lost second. 

His computers map his course, but in seconds it proves useless. The floor plan is different than his schematics say as he finds himself nearly barred in by large pipes running vertical from floor to ceiling, a foul stench seeping from their form as he manages to dodge best he can through their bar like structure. The thing letting out a choked cry as it keeps up, bounding from surface to surface, swinging  gnarled claws at Starscream’s trail. Narrowly missing him, and the thin space between them was growing thinner by the second. 

This couldn’t keep up - he’d have to fight. Just needed to find the right place to turn around and get a good shot. Push it back long enough for him to gain the advantage. Keep it pinned under firepower and go in for the final kill. He wasn’t afraid of it, only irritated at the thought of something so foul getting the upper hand over him! Skywarp would never let him live it down, and Starscream still had to see that bastard wake up so he yell at him for opening the damn door in the first place!

Besides, he wouldn’t disappoint Megatron by falling to something so grotesque.

He gets his opening soon enough as the walls begin to spread  once more and Starscream can gain some speed. Pushing forward and watching a tunnel open ahead, a light blinding and flooding the surrounding area as the creature behind him is just barely in sight. Mouth splitting open as it lunges to bite once more. Perfect. All Starscream had to do was catch it once the tunnel opens fully, plans as he spirals to the left, feeling a dull pain as broken servos drag briefly against his belly. Keep it in sight until he was ready to lay out his attack.

He was not ready.

The moment the tunnel opens a rush of frost and wind throws him off course with the strength of a titan’s fist. Slamming him into the nearest wall of running pipes and steel covered wires. His form giving a pained lurch and stumbling out of altmode was like tearing a piece of himself off at the striking pain of it. Forcing his body to obey seconds before he hit the ground with a sickening crash. His wing bent under him and arm twisted the wrong way. His helm smacks into the floor and a sharp pain sears over his senses like an open flame, feeling something seep and swell as the ground vibrated with the rhythm of the creature drawing closer. 

Starscream forces his optics online, scrambling to pull his limbs out from under himself, kicking up snow and ice as he tries to line up a shot. Watching the mech from the ghost ship charging, a cloud of white as he tears through the dusted surface of the snow covered floors. Something wild and panicked swelling up within Starscream’s body as it leaps. Animalistic as the jagged mouth of broken metal and choking groans stretches wide to sink into Starscream’s form.

He braces for impact.

Something catches it first.

He turns to see above him where the snapping, snarling creature gives a gagging yelp as Megatron’s forearm catches it across the spread mouth. Holding it off while the mangled plates bite and try to tear into the superior armor of Megatron’s arm. Their struggling forms encasing Starscream in shadow as their pedes drawing closer on either side. The _thing_ ’s arms raking across the warlord’s body like rusted blades - tearing into the outer layer of armor. Leaving bits of itself behind as it claws wild and furious across the barrier that was Megatron’s body.

Starscream rolls to avoid being stepped on by the kicking, snarling creature. The rotten, decaying form falling off in brittle bits as it realizes it’s quarry is below. Helm turning downwards and snapping with a split mouth that never seems to fully close. Trying to push past the barricade of Megatron’s strength to reach him.

“You don’t touch him!” Megatron’s voice is stiff as he drives the beast back with a step that dents and quakes the floor beneath. Starscream quick to rise to knees,  dashing through the space of Megatron’s braced legs. Ducking to the side as the creature gives a pained or furious cry. “Go! I’ll take care of this!” Megatron orders, never turning as he drops a fist to hold the creature. His heavy arm like a battering ram, slamming into the deformed face and sending pieces scattering wet and rotten across the floor. 

It doesn’t seem to notice, only temporarily deterred as those empty optics seek out Starscream with frantic motion. Hungry, Starscream thinks. Frozen in the moment as he sits back behind the clashing shapes. Megatron’s roaring form holding the thing at bay while all Starscream can do is stare - feel something slowly crawling up his back, tickling the edges of his thoughts like fear.

“Starscream go!” Megatron calls again, driving his attacker back and Starscream sees now that there is no snow on the ground. Just Megatron’s shadow struggling with this vile insult to Cybertronian life.

“Don’t be stupid!” Starscream yells, pushing to his feet and dodging a swinging arm of the creature, smelling rot and spoil as it tries to lunge for him once more. Doing all in its power to claw through Megatron once Starscream is back in reach. Barely stopped by Megatron as he once more grapples with it. Giving Starscream a chance to raise weapons and aim for the broken face, unleashing a torrent of fatal, searing light across the snarling helm. 

It draws back in pain this time, the shrill whine nothing like what Starscream had heard before, but close enough that he wanted to shut it up as soon as possible. Communicated as much in a screaming order to Megatron who took no time to doubt him. Following the suggestion with a backhanded fist sending the creature stumbling back and choking on it’s own crushed throat.

 Broken servos drag and tear at itself where Starscream fires, timing his shots perfectly around Megatron’s brawling fists. He stays aligned to his leader’s right, watching the pieces of this wild thing fracture and break beneath the sheer force of Megatron’s strikes. The embers of his own gunfire boiling deep within the rotten metal and slowing it down. Only daring to leave Megatron’s reach when the creature would swing for _him_ and Megatron’s arm or shoulder was there to take the brunt of the attack. Twist and push it back into his control as they continued breaking it down.

“Starscream!” Megatron roars as the thing digs claws against his armored torso - but does not draw anything like pain from Megatron’s face. Only the snarling rage of being faced with such an opponent, the disappointment of something so _weak_ threatening his ship. It was an expression Starscream once so admired in the gladiator pits beneath Kaon, the look Megatron wore so arrogant and handsome when he knew how to end a fight.

Megatron doesn’t have to give further orders, Starscream knows what to do as his leader’s grip sinks deep into the creature’s shoulders. Nearly shattering the broken mantle of whatever mech this thing once was, and drops to a knee. Sheer weight and force bringing it down with him and knocking it off balance at the sudden change of position.

Starscream rushes forward, stepping on Megatron’s bent thigh like a platform, one servo bracing himself on his leader’s shoulder while the other curves, burying claws like blades beneath the jawline of the wrecked creature. Curling and clutching tight as he propels himself upward at the same moment Megatron drew back. Feeling the tethers of the mech’s throat begin to snap cable by cable. Torn as Starscream flew above and Megatron pulled below, ripping it apart in one swift action.

Starscream lands on the opposing side, knee giving out from the earlier fall as he lands. Crumbling to the ground and dropping the mech’s head as stumbles. Spilling to the floor with only a single arm keeping him up as the adrenaline fought a losing battle with greater damages.

He can feel the crunch of metal and Megatron’s infuriated snarls reverberate across the floor as his leader is likely stomping on the corpse. Ensuring it will not get up, and somehow that’s endearing to Starscream who thinks if it gets back up he’s just going to let the damn thing eat him rather than try to fight. It probably deserves it if it can survive Megatron’s big fat feet.

All at once Starscream is met with Thundercracker’s worried call, the comforting song of their bond stretched across the ship wherever his wing mate was. Rushing him like a dam cracked and finally spilling forth to reach him, making the pain in his body slightly less miserable to feel what he had not realized was missing earlier.

It might bother him more if Starscream didn’t force himself to shift to his side, letting his sore body rest for the moment as he watches Megatron kick the corpse far from him. Looking both furious and disgusted at the sight but a red gaze fell back to him. Almost looking startled.

“Are you alive?” Megatron calls out, standing far enough away that his suddenly softer tone almost didn’t reach Starscream.

“No.” 

“Good.” 

His leader approaches with gore tacky across his pedes, causing Starscream to sneer in repulsion. Not wanting to think of what could be covering their bodies, spittle from an undead thing. Dripping black and acidic from the gruesome mouth...Starscream shuddered for more than just disgust.

“Get up.” Megatron kneels at Starscream’s side, extending the arm which was not marred with a bite and Starscream felt a bright sense of panic at the sight of it. Thinking of Skywarp, of his trapped state many floors above. He must have looked as afraid as he felt because Megatron withdrew the limb, giving it a good shake to show not a single drop of fuel spilled out. “It didn’t get me.” He answers Starscream’s unspoken question, features shifting as he looked over the resting seeker’s form. “What about you?” 

“It wishes.” Starscream groans, trying to push up on his arms but not really having the strength. “But it's not my type." 

For some reason he’s not surprised when Megatron’s servos come to rest on either side of his shoulders. He wants to be irritated, would love to squabble and slap him for daring, but he doesn’t. Instead he allows a greater strength to manipulate his form, sit him back enough that when Starscream decides he doesn’t want to keep himself upright, Megatron’s side is there to catch him. Serve as a useful resting surface, finally a purpose for the obscene breadth of his stupid chest.

“At least it’s dead.” Starscream winces, trying to move his leg and Megatron gives a low grunt of agreement. 

There’s no longer snow cursing the world before him.

Was it an illusion of panic? Of fear? Starscream didn’t know. He didn’t have to. It was over now and he could just focus on getting the ship back in order and flying as far and fast from the floating debris as he possibly could. Maybe Megatron would even let him fire the main cannon to completely wipe the stain from all of existence! Couldn’t help but stare across the distance at a separated corpse he wanted nothing more than to launch into a sun.

“Yes.” Megatron echoes, and Starscream wonders if he’s worse off than he knows by the way his leader seems to refuse to release his shoulder. “It won’t bother you any longer.”

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There is something wrong.

Soundwave knows this by more than the fact they cannot manipulate their physical form. 

The ways are locked. There is something choking their reach, blocking the path with bulbous and swollen malcontent. Acidic and crude in the spaces where Soundwave exists. The edges of all sparks impressions, the pulsating and fleeting where their brethren forget to _feel_ less intensely in case something is listening. 

Such a thing is usually Soundwave. Navigating the wavering emotions of the crew, of the army, of the faction. Listening. Observing. Making notes. Curious. 

But something is wrong.

Something else is listening. Observing. Making notes. Curious.

It curls and crawls through the veins of all things Soundwave alone can see. Slithering wet and distorted, cramming itself into shadowy places Soundwave tries not to follow. Hesitant to seek out where and what this thing is. Bad code. Broken feelings. A void swallowing as it goes, leaving behind scorch and rot and infection ready to burst and seep and spoil.

There is something wrong.

Soundwave cannot stop it. 

It sits behind them in this place of all and nothing. They feel its presence like a cold chill trying to cast frost upon their intangible mind. Soundwave imagines it’s smiling. Something sharp and bared, twisted as it watches with unblinking eyes and a nauseous sound as it tries to draw closer. 

Soundwave cannot move because they have no legs with which to run. They are emotion and code as this malfunction crawls closer, wet panting echoing throughout this space which is not real, but very much a cage. _Sliding_ like a gluttonous leech closer...closer…

It is so very rare for Soundwave to feel fear. 

They feel it very acutely now as the thing behind them continues to smile with a twisted face as it molts and burrows into something new.

Drawing closer now than before.


End file.
